


Catgut Strings and Unsaid Things

by unrestrainedpassion



Series: Catgut Strings and Unsaid Things [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, Community: au_bigbang, Gen, Humor, Music AU, Stradivarius, danny is a violinist, do not ask me, i like to think it's good humor, little universe i want to revisit, this is kinda crack, what the hell is the goddamn title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 04:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrestrainedpassion/pseuds/unrestrainedpassion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny can play the violin. Steve is musically impaired. </p><p>Part of a 'Verse I'll keep adding to when I have time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catgut Strings and Unsaid Things

“Seriously, though,” Danny grumbled, slamming the passenger door of the Camaro shut after him. “Did Rachel step out of court that last day, put on her man-hunting lipstick, and set out to find a husband that would piss off the father of her child the most?”

Steve sighed. “What did he do?” he asked, the _this time_ going unsaid but not unheard.

Danny frowned at him. “What he always does.”

It probably wasn’t a good idea to say any of the sarcastic remarks lying in wait in Steve’s mind, because he didn’t fancy starting his Wednesday with a Danny’s-fist-sized bruise on his face, so Steve remained quiet, knowing his partner would inevitably explain. Very loudly.

“He just--he’s so pretentious. He wants Grace to learn the _oboe_.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t she a bit, well, young? To start learning to play the--the um, oboe?” Oboe? Which one was that? One of the metal ones or the yellow ones? Are they all metal? _Yeesh_. He had played _football_ in high school, so he'd avoided the band geeks. Apparently--and, yeah, okay, predictably--Step-Stan had not.

Danny shot him a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Well, no, not really. She’s ten. She’d be good at an instrument. But band? Really? By high school she’ll sell her soul to the marching band, miss out on playing real music, and probably play some horrific wind instrument version of _Molly On The Shore_ every single damn year until she goes to college or I tear all my hair out, whichever comes first.”

“Isn’t _Molly On The Shore_ a wind instrument-y, uh, thing?” Steve remembered the Kukui High Marching Band playing some sunny Irish jig tune one year just before their game. It hadn’t been transcendental (not that Steve knew transcendental music), yeah, but it certainly was not painful. Honestly, though, what was he expecting? Of course Danny had an opinion on this subject; he had an opinion on everything.

Danny shifted in his seat, and Steve knew he was in for a rant. “Steven. It’s a fiddle tune. It does not belong within six miles of a wind instrument, unless it’s the bagpipes, and then only for effect. I played it my freshman year in high school, okay, and it sounded better in our fifty person orchestra than I’ve ever heard a wind symphony play, like, ever. And I’ve searched.”

Steve blinked and ran a red light. “Did you just say you were in your high school orchestra?”

Danny grinned, tipping his head back like he was letting memories wash over him. “Concertmaster of the top youth symphony in Jersey City my junior and senior year.”

“So--”

“So obviously my daughter should learn the _violin_ , because--the _oboe_ , of all things, really?”

“When--when did you start learning?”

Danny flapped a hand. “Ten, hence why I even brought it up in the first place--”

“ _You_ brought this up?”

“Yeah, so she’d learn the violin, keep up, Steve.”

“But Stan wants her to learn the omaha--”

“ _Oboe_. Yes. Because he, the bastard, was first oboe when he was in high school.”

“Oh, my god,” mused Steve, pulling up to HQ. “You’re a classically trained violinist.”

Danny snorted. “Keep up, Steven.”

-

Steve was having trouble keeping up, mostly because the universe seemed to have picked this particular time to mess with him.

By 10 AM (funny, ten was how old Danny was when he started the violin--no, focus, Steve), the Governor had called with a case: someone had stolen a Stradivarius cello bow and bridge from the new traveling exhibit at a museum.

Steve had choked on his coffee when Kono filled him in--because coincidence much?--but Danny, oh, Danny, he’d dropped his coffee and sunk into a chair with a strangled yelp, hands to his mouth like he was a southern belle, not a badass Jersey cop. (“Some dank ass _who_ thought he was worthy enough to steal _what_?!”)

Immediately after that episode (Chin had to run and get Danny another coffee before he'd rise out of his seat), Steve had reevaluated his investigative ability; if he could miss Danny’s clear musical… _proclivity_ , how did he even get into the Naval Academy? How did he even get out of bed in the morning?

Chin had given Danny some surveillance footage to weed though, mostly because he had the most experience with the stolen goods. Steve cautiously approached his partner as he apparently attempted to locate the bridge-thing (and bowtie?) with the sheer power of his mind.

“He-ey, partner,” Steve said, sliding into the seat across Danny. “I’m uh, beginning to wonder if you have a conflict of interest with this case, the way you’re burning holes through the film there.”

Danny looked up, regarding Steve coolly before answering. “They don’t make instruments like the Strads anymore. At all. It’s impossible.”

“O-kay…”

“Not even the Stradivari family can do it. Something about the wood in Italy in the 17th and 18th centuries.”

“It _pains_ me that you know that.”

Danny steepled his hands and rested his chin on his fingertips. “Steven, listen carefully. I know I’m a cop, I love being a cop, and I know I’m always talking about procedure.” Danny’s words were so measured and calm Steve was beginning to get worried. “But I just might permanently cripple this guy when we find him.”

“How--” Steve started. “How did I ever miss this side of you. It’s freakin’ obvious.”

“Was never a secret,” Danny replied defensively.

“Will you play for me?” asked Steve. He clapped a hand over his mouth. Where had that come from?

Danny made an odd expression and opened his mouth to reply just as Kono burst into the office. “Perp made contact with August March two minutes ago. We have a location, let’s go.”

On the way out of the building, Danny crinkled his nose. “If August thinks he can make away with the bridge or the bow I will break one of my cardinal rules and actually fight him.”

Steve nodded, pretending to understand that on a deeper, spiritual level--because what the  _hell_ \--but he was preoccupied with a sudden obsession of his own: How could he get Danny to play the violin for him? 

**Author's Note:**

> I SWEAR I WILL POST MY STUPID DRAGON AU STORY THAT I LOVE A TON BUT HAVE A TOTAL BLOCK FOR  
> don't fret; it's mostly written. when it's nice and pretty i'll post it for you guys. 
> 
> I love support, concrit, flailing, anything-this fandom is awesome and loving :)
> 
> I play the violin, actually, and--while I don't hate the band kids at all--MOLLY ON THE SHORE IS A FIDDLE TUNE THIS IS MY OPINION AS WELL AS DANNY'S I CAN'T CONTROL IT.


End file.
